The Future
by varietyofwords
Summary: How Hyde imagines tomorrow, two weeks, and ten years from now at different stages of his life. Jackie/Hyde.
1. Part One

**Title:** The Future

**Part:** One

**Couple:** Jackie/Hyde

**Fandom:** _That '70s Show_

**Words:** 2,002

**Rating:** PG-13

**Author's Note:** Ugh, I'm afraid I might have mixed up the timeline and made the characters a tad out of character but trying to fix the shit show that was season eight gave me a splitting headache. New respect for all you who have attempted to do the same. I'm not sure if I like the ending so feedback would be appreciated. Part two will be up later this week.

Edna always told her son he would either be in jail or dead by the time he was eighteen. She told him repeatedly that he's worthless; that he's got nothing to offer the world; that he'll wind up being just like his son of a bitch of a father. He spent most of his young life expecting his future to involve pinstripes and being prisoner #287360. Whittling away his days in his six by eight cell without the aid of "film" and beer and game shows.

And then he moved in with the Formans. It took him a while to get comfortable with the cot and Spiderman pillow Mrs. Forman set out and he still spent the first five months living out of the bag he brought with him when he moved in. Too afraid that one day the Formans are going to wake up one morning and realize what a dumb decision they made letting him in the house. So he refused to admit that this might be the real deal.

But after awhile the future he imagined morphed from being prisoner #287360 to Red Forman kicking him out on his eighteenth birthday. The basement stopped being the Forman's basement and started just being 'the basement'. He wasn't stupid enough to think that he co-owned the basement, that he can lay claim to something that will never truly be his, but Eric and Mrs. Forman and even Red started referring to that tiny room in the back of the basement as "his" and he started to let himself lay claim to it too. He knew Red would still kick him out on his eighteenth birthday because the man told him and Eric so every single day. The man had the damn date circled on the calendar hanging in his garage after all. By that date, though, he would have a high school diploma, which is more than Edna ever expected of him. More than he expected of himself.

And then he got arrested for that shallow cheerleader, Red decided to kick him out, and suddenly his future was back to being prisoner #287360. He told Forman he would be fine living in the Foto Hut; the hose out back would be sufficient in the way of a shower. But it really killed him that Red would be so quick to kick him out of his home, so quick to point out that Hyde wasn't really a member of his family and the dangerous criminal that Edna always said he would be. He tried to keep the hurt off his face when Red told him to get out and the elation when Red told him to stay. After Red let him back in, though, when he thought about his future, the number "287360" was no longer etched on his chest. Instead, he had visions of living in the Formans' basement until he died, if he was lucky, or he turned eighteen, if he was lucky.

This was the future he had in mind until he started watching "The Price is Right" one summer with her. Watching morphed into making out and, before he knew it, making out morphed into the first real relationship he ever had. And who would have thought that relationship would be with a vapid, shallow cheerleader? A square who got him arrested for trying to be a badass? A girl that drove him bonkers (and still does) with incessant chatter. Unicorns? ABBA? Weddings? The only time she was quite was when he forced her to shut her pie hole by kissing her.

And when he kissed her, he didn't think about the future. He was so wrapped up in the battle between their tongues, the silky smooth texture of her inner thigh when he ran his calloused hands over it, and the tangle of her hair between his fingers to think about doing anything more than living in the present. Because the present was fantastic and more than he ever dreamed the future could hold.

Eventually, she wears down his defenses and he can't ignore her chatter about wedding dresses, doves, wild mustangs, and honeymoons in Hawaii. She started hinting (and not subtly because Jackie doesn't know how to be subtle) at the two of them walking down the aisle, started hinting at the possibility of them getting married. She started imagining their future together and wanted him to do the same but he was quick to point out that they will never have the future she imagines. A harp? A butler?

No way does his future involve being that filthy rich (and, if he is, he'd hire Jethro Tull not some pansy harp player). No way does his future involve being The Man. He imagined them sitting on the couch in the Forman's basement because it was not likely that he would ever move out. She's fat – really fat – and he tells her the truth when she asks because he's not one for lying and dishonesty. (Case in point: he came clean about cheating immediately and to her face, which is something Kelso never did.) He imagined her to be fact because he wanted to shock her, wanted to show the difference between what she wants and what he can offer her.

And, maybe, just maybe he made her fat because that way she would be forced to stick around, that way she wouldn't be able to leave him. Maybe he made her fat because he wanted her to realize that he would still be there with her even if she gained another two hundred pounds.

Maybe not.

They broke up. Multiple times. He stopped thinking about his future because it hurt too much to think it would involve being without her. He would rather have fat Jackie than no Jackie. And when they would get back together and she would demand he think about his future, he refused to think about it for the same reason – tomorrow she might be gone; five years from now she might be gone.

A different future came to him when she told him about the job she had been offered in Chicago. She begged him to tell her to stay but all he sees is himself sitting in Formans' basement silently watching her pack up all her things. Suitcases are strewn about the room; her precious clothes thrown haphazardly into them.

"_I never should have stayed with you. I should have gone to Chicago when I had the chance because all you have done, Steven Hyde, is hold me back," she shouts at him as she dumps another armful of clothes into the open suitcase._

"_Look at this dump," she exclaims. "All you've given me is heartache and four years in a dirty, old basement with your dirty, poor self that I will spend the rest of my life regretting."_

"_I deserve better. I deserve more."_

It took him copious amounts of beer and one night passed out in the back of a beer warehouse to realize he was willing to take that chance, that he would rather be Mr. Jackie Hyde for four years than none. And then she up and left before noon rolled around and he had the opportunity to say 'yes' and her leaving him became reality. He was pissed with her for leaving, pissed at himself for being willing to compromise his ideals and actually marry her. But then Donna and Eric called him out on his feelings and he actually decided to drive down to Chicago.

He normally likes driving as it helps him clear his head in a way that getting high doesn't but that particular drive had him thinking about the future more than he felt comfortable with. He didn't have a ring and didn't have a plan and he wasn't quite sure how his future would play out. Things were either going to go really poorly or really well.

"_Jackie, marry me?" _

"_Oh, Steven, yes!"_

"_Jackie, marry me?"_

"_Oh, Steven, my life in Chicago is so fantastic that I couldn't possibly give it up to live in a basement with you!"_

He never expected things to go that terribly, never expected to show up and see his girl longing around in a post-sex haze waiting for her ex-boyfriend to show up and do her again. He was so angry he didn't wait around to hear her excuses. Instead, he hit the open road with a future filled with booze and weed in mind.

And that was how he spent his time in Vegas – stoned and drunk out of his mind – refusing to even think about her or his future. After a couple weeks, though, he figured he might as well go back to Point Place. His "film" and beer induced haze has drained him of his cash and for some odd reason he felt bad about ditching the store W.B. put him in charge of. So he went back to confront his demons. He sat down and listened to her bullshit about how she never nailed Kelso.

Then Samantha – Sam – walked through the Formans' front door and into his life. All of the sudden he was married, he had a wife and it wasn't the girl he thought it would be. He stayed with Sam out of a need to prove his mother wrong because walking out on Sam looked at lot like Bud walking out on Edna. This was not a future he wanted to be in the cards for him and, for the most part, he managed to not think about the future. Except during his and Sam's fights and at night when he was lying in bed next to her unable to sleep, thoughts about the future would plague him.

And every time the future he imagined would involve Sam and him sitting on opposite sides of the room (or on opposite sides of the apartment they shared) unable to stomach looking at one another and unable to stomach talking to one another. He would have nothing to say to her because their marriage was a sham, a mistake. He would be miserable; she would be miserable. His future looked bleak.

But getting rid of her would make Edna's prediction true. Or at least that's what he told himself. The truth, if and when he was willing to admit it, was that he stayed with her out of spite, out of an intense need to hurt his ex as much as she had hurt him.

However, the truth about his "marriage" eventually came out and he ended up sending that lying, cheating, slutty "wife" of his away. He refused to let himself think about the other her in his life long before he heard of her list and her interest in Fez, but especially not after he saw Fez kiss her at midnight.

But he when he was alone, when he laid in bed at night and closed his eyes, he couldn't help but think that her future did not include Fez as anything more than her friend, her shopping buddy. He figured that since Red hadn't kicked out him out the basement yet his future was assured – a future spent drinking beer and watching television in the basement until his hair turned gray and he died. To some this future looked bleak; a single, crotchety, old man watching television and ranting about the government. But to him, it wasn't so bad. It only became bleak when his future self would nurse a beer whilst listening to country music or, god forbid, ABBA.


	2. Part Two

**Title:** The Future

**Part:** Two

**Couple:** Jackie/Hyde

**Fandom:** _That '70s Show_

**Words:** 1,680

**Rating:** PG-13

**Author's Note:** Thanks to the two people (Katt & KayJay) who reviewed part one! This is supposed to be the last part, and I am still not sure about the ending…

Valentine's Day – a "holiday" he abhors – rolled around and he had to spend the whole day listening to Fez talk about how he and Jackie are finally going to do it.

"_Figures," he stated with a roll of his eyes. "The princess would do it with you on a made-up day of romance."_

"_Not a princess, Hyde. A goddess."_

But late that night while Donna and Eric are out on their date and Fez was supposed to be doing it with Jackie, he sat in his chair alone in the dark nursing a beer when she stumbled in. Tears streaked her face; her eyes were puffy and red. She paused mid-step when she noticed him sitting there; he paused mid-chug when he noticed her walking in. She waffled between deciding to walk into the room that has been her sanctuary for years and walking back out into the cold Wisconsin winter. Even after everything he went through with her, his stomach still clinched at the sight of her tears and him setting down his beer became an unspoken invitation for her to come into his sanctuary. She didn't say anything at first, just sunk down into the well-worn couch and tried to contain her emotions. He tried to resist comforting her as he always did before the shit show that was Chicago.

She failed. Miserably.

He failed. Miserably.

Her renewed sobbing propelled him over to her and despite all the pain and suffering they both experienced, she was back to sobbing in his arms.

"_Oh god, it was terrible! I couldn't…I couldn't do it," she bemoaned. "And he got so angry."_

He worried that Fez had hit her or something else just as terrible. His blood began to boil, and he was this close to storming out and kicking some ass. But she assured him that hadn't happened.

Between her tears he barely managed to catch the snippets of what happened and he still wasn't sure when she started to fall asleep on the couch with her head in his lap. He carried to her to his bedroom under the stairs with no hopes or illusions of doing it with her. He deposited her on his cot and she stared at him with ruined make-up and hair as he rummaged in his drawers for something for her to wear to sleep in. Handing her one of his concert t-shirts, he told her that she should stay here and he'll sleep on the couch or something. He had reached the doorway when her reply made him pause.

"_Thank you, Steven."_

Softly. Almost like a whisper. He looked at her with that stare that always made her shiver right down to her core and nodded his head. The old Steven would have said a gruff "whatever" but this Steven's answer is almost as soft as hers.

"_Of course, doll."_

She gasped because he hadn't called her doll in months, but he kept walking away. Silently berating himself for the slip up, he plopped down on the worn out sofa and tried to force himself to fall asleep.

She was gone the next morning and neither of mentioned that night when they saw each other later that afternoon. They never said anything about that night other than Fez announcing to the whole gang (including Kelso, who is up visiting from Chicago with baby Betsey) he and Jackie are over three days later. Kelso congratulated their foreign friend for keeping Jackie around for a month (he lost twenty bucks to Eric on that one) and on getting out from under the Bitch's thumb. Without even thinking about it – as though it's a reflex – Hyde fogged him in the arm.

"What the hell, Hyde?" Kelso yelled. "What was the hell was that for?"

"Uh," he stumbled as he searched his brain for a good excuse. "I just missed you, man."

This time, however, nobody believed him. They all looked at him with mouths agape in shock.

"Hyde, you just punched Kelso. For Jackie!" Eric exclaimed.

He glanced at all of them from behind his sunglasses but his eyes settled on her. Shocked was not the right word to express the emotion her face.

"Whatever," he mumbled.

His answer was unsatisfactory, apparently, as she jumped up and fled the basement. Only he saw her brushing aside a stray tear. The pressure of everyone's stares was unbearable, though, and he stomped up the stairs to the kitchen. He headed straight for the fridge planning to snag a beer when the distorted face of one Red Forman caught his eye. The raven-haired girl he used to date has her arms thrown around Red and the man clearly looked uncomfortable with this state of events. He stood there just watching as Red awkwardly patted the girl's back but her wailing even pierced his ears through the sliding glass door separating the scene outside from the scene inside the house. Eventually he turned away, feeling as though he was invading something, and walked through the swinging door.

That night at dinner Red took away his food and called him a dumbass. And this time Mrs. Forman didn't stick up for him. In fact, he thought he saw her nodding along in agreement with Red's assessment.

They avoided one another for weeks. Every time he walked into the basement or The Hub, she would make up some lame excuse and leave. Each time she walked into the basement or The Hub, he would make up some shitty excuse and leave. Donna's room (which she moved into after her and Fez's breakup) and Grooves were places completely off limits to him and her, respectively. It was an unspoken rule but a rule none the same.

That is, until the end of March when she showed up right as he was closing up for the evening. He had already turned the signed on the door to 'closed' and was locking up the register when the door flew open. He barked out "We're closed" without glancing up.

"Steven…" she started but his glare made her stop.

"The store is closed, Jackie," he snapped at her and went back to counting the cash in the drawer.

"Why did you do it?" She asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Do what?"

"Why did you hit Kelso?"

"I don't…" He said dropping the cash into the door and walking over towards the listening couch.

"Don't you dare say 'I don't know', Steven!" She demanded as she walked over towards him and stood directly in front of him.

"I don't know."

"Your wife shows up and you spend every day burning me, but you hit Kelso for making fun of me. You stare at me while we're watching TV in the basement when you think I'm not paying attention but you glare at me when I do notice."

"Uh," he interjected. "No, I don't."

"Yes, you do," she corrected.

"No, I don't," he snapped with a glare.

"Yes, you do," she glowered back.

"Whatever."

"Ugh," she groaned. "You're so damn frustrating. Why can't you just admit it?"

"Admit what?" He snapped back.

"Admit that you made a mistake. Admit that you still love me."

"Bullshit," he replied.

"God, why did I even bother coming here?" She bemoaned. "You're still the same. Nonresponsive. Noncommittal. Oh wait, you can commit – to everyone but me!"

She turned to walk back out the door, turned to walk away from him again but she paused with her hand on the doorknob. With a sigh, she turned back around.

"What's so wrong with me? What's so messed up with me that I can't even do it with Fez? He meets every requirement on my list and just when we're about to do it–"

"Jackie, I don't want to hear about you doing it with Fez!"

"Why?" She cried out. "Because the idea of someone having sex with me is that repulsive to you?"

"Because I don't want to hear about another guy touching you! Because thinking about a guy putting his hands on you makes me sick!"

Silence. Dead silence. They both glowered at one another, chests heaving in frustration and anger.

"I hate you!" She screamed at him.

"Yeah? Well, I hate you, too!" He snapped back at her.

And then his lips are on hers, or her lips are on his. Either way, he tangled his hands in her hair as their tongues tangle together. They were both wrestling for control of the situation, of the person they are currently kissing. Next thing he knew, they were on the couch and he was on top of her running his hands across her back and pushing himself into her. He moved his lips from hers and started leaving feathery kisses down the side of her neck, stopping to suck on the skin over her collarbone.

"I hate you," she gasped out as she arched her back. She moaned as he cupped her breast; he groaned as she pressed her pelvis into his.

"Me too," he replied before capturing her lips again. He told himself that this doesn't change anything, but when he closed his eyes the future plays out.

"_I love you," he whispers in her ear before resuming their make-out session. He's lying on top of her on the bed of an indistinguishable hotel room._

"_I love you, too" she moans as he runs his hands over the bodice of her gown."But, Steven! Watch my dress!" _

"_Jackie," he groans, but she pushes him off of her and holds at arms' length. _

"_What did I tell you to call me?"_

"_Jackie, I'm not calling you that every damn day."_

"_Steven," she demands with a cocked eyebrow. _

"_Jackie," he replies with his own cocked eyebrow. _

"_Steven," she says with a pout. "Puh-lease."_

"_Fine," he caves when she juts out her lip. "Mrs. Steven Hyde."_


End file.
